At the Throne of the Smiling God
by Distant Glory
Summary: [Welcome to Night Vale] After being thrown into the light, Kevin needs to find a way to get back to Night Vale. This might be a little bit trickier than he thought...luckily, there's a voice that wants to help him.


Set immediately after Old Oak Doors Part B, expressing a personal hope of mine for what might have happened to Kevin...because he can't be gone for good. NOTHING HAS BEEN EXPLAINED YET.

A fic-specific note: I was playing around with formatting in this story, but this site is not formatting friendly. Either you may use your imaginations (what I was intending is pretty clear), or you can go look at the story on An Archive Of Our Own, which better conveys my intentions.

_Disclaimer: _I am not Joseph Fink, creator of Welcome to Night Vale. Therefore, I own nothing.

* * *

**At the Throne of the Smiling God**

That had not been how Kevin had wanted that interview to go.

He'd only meant to open that door so that Cecil could see the light for himself. That, after all, had been what finally convinced Kevin, way back when he had needed convincing. As much as he would have liked to pass through the door himself, that just wouldn't have been possible. He had so much work to do! When it was all done, then would be the time to bathe in that majestic radiance.

But that impolite man, Steve Carlsberg—imagine, a man who didn't want the best and most productive life possible for his little step-daughter!—had thrown him in here, and the door had closed, and then it had vanished. So it seemed that Kevin was stuck, if you could really use that kind of word when this was the most wonderful place ever seen. So much burning, scorching, searing light! Kevin felt like his imperfections were just being scoured away. Oh, if only he could stay here!

Of course, he couldn't. Night Vale still needed to understand—_Cecil_ still needed to understand—and so Kevin had to find another way to leave.

First mastering his unproductive urge to fall writhing and screaming to the ground—having your imperfections burned away hurt quite a bit—Kevin looked around. At least, he thought he did. This place was nothing _but_ light: there were no landmarks, or even a horizon. And even the light itself was strange. It seemed to come from all directions—not just above, but also below; not just in front, but also behind; not just from one side, but also the other. It was so bright that Kevin couldn't even see himself when he looked down, and there wasn't a single shadow anywhere, not even skulking under the soles of his shoes.

So, all other things being equal, and the pain being the same no matter what direction he moved in, Kevin started forward.

Getting back to Night Vale might be _slightly_ more difficult than he had thought...

As he walked, he found himself fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt. Not because he was too warm—his beloved town(s) existed in the middle of a desert, after all—but because it was rather unsettling to be walking along without being able to see anything. Kevin's job depended on him being bodily existent, and the feel of the fabric under his fingers was familiar and reassuring. Pain was all in the mind, but it was pretty hard to fake the exact texture of Kevin's shirts! Each one had a unique feel by the time he'd been at work for a while, and if he couldn't _see_ the pattern in this place, he could at least feel the way that the cuffs had stiffened as the red stains dried.

Now, if only he could tell how much productivity he was losing! Kevin longed for the comfortingly relentless tick of his clock and the strident but melodious tones that StrexCorp used to signal their employees to the time of the day. Without those sounds, Kevin was at a loss to calculate how long he spent walking, discarding little scraps of fabric from the sleeves of his shirt and trying to count the seconds.

He was just adjusting to the pain—finally managing to ungrit his teeth—when things changed.

The light had kept him from seeing where he was going. Now, he found

his thoughts

Frac/  
/turing

Then fading at the edges

Kevin stumbled back

Un/  
/til

His thoughts

felt whole again.

It had been a long time since Kevin had felt fear—in fact, he could barely remember the emotion at all, and it was quite a surprise to find himself almost tripping over his own feet in his haste to get away. All his limbs tingled with a cold rush of adrenalin, and his heart seemed to have leaped up into his throat, where it fluttered like one of those nuisance flying rodents. Fear belonged to that distant time when he had laughably resisted the advent of StrexCorp into his little town. Certainly they, and the Smiling God that they had brought with them, had cured all of those little apprehensions that he had had.

Kevin giggled, a little unsteadily. It seemed so silly now, to have been worried about the way that StrexCorp had been taking the radio station in such a different direction...to be suspicious of the way that they were buying out the local businesses...and to be so alarmed by the advent of those strange, mutated deer that hung around the Strex distribution plant. All those fears had just melted away, once he'd learned to smile—_really_ smile.

And of course, that was the answer! A smile could solve so many problems! Why hadn't he thought of it before?

He just needed to make a little extra effort.

Accordingly, Kevin put his teeth together, separated his lips, and pulled the corners of his mouth back. It was quite an awkward angle for him to pull at, and his skin did resist so. But the old scars helped—they provided a neat upward guide for Kevin to rip along. And since he couldn't really see in this strange little dimension, he didn't even have to worry about the state of his shirt. That was a nice little bonus.

Soon, Kevin was smiling as hard as he could, and he felt so much better. The light wasn't burning him at all now, which just went to show that all you needed to do was try and keep trying, even when your hand were slipping in your own blood and your skin just didn't want to tear. He sighed happily.

THAT'S A WONDERFUL SMILE YOU HAVE, KEVIN!

The voice, like the light, seemed to come from everywhere. Or maybe, from inside Kevin himself. His bones vibrated with it. It sounded so pleasant, so happy, so...smiling. What did it matter that he couldn't see the one it belonged to?

"Why, thank you!" said Kevin. "I'm sure that _your_ smile is wonderful, too, even though I can't see it." Of course, did you really need to _see_ someone when they had a voice like that? How could the reality be anything but a disappointment?

OH, BUT YOU CAN! YOU CAN SEE MY SMILE ALL AROUND YOU!

"The light is your smile?"

EXACTLY!

"How wonderful!"

I LIKE TO THINK SO. I'VE BEEN CHECKING YOUR WORK, KEVIN, AND I THINK YOU'RE PRETTY WONDERFUL YOURSELF!

"Oh, I'm blushing. That's very kind of you." Without really being sure why, Kevin took a step forward, raising his hands in appeal. "May I ask a favour? I need to get back. This place is just amazing, and I wish I could stay forever, but there's just so much work left to do!"

I KNOW.

Kevin laughed aloud. Of course the voice knew.

I CAN HELP YOU, KEVIN. IN FACT, WE CAN HELP EACH OTHER! AND ISN'T THAT EVEN BETTER?

Kevin took another step forward. "It is!" The voice was definitely coming from in front of him now, and he needed to be _closer_ to it. But—

He paused. Hadn't something happened when he had tried to move through this place before?

OH KEVIN, DON'T BE SCARED! I JUST NEED YOU TO COME A FEW STEPS FURTHER FORWARD. THEN I CAN TAKE YOU BACK TO NIGHT VALE, AND YOU CAN GET BACK TO WORK.

Kevin took a small step forward. It was so important that he get back.

I'LL BE HELPING YOU, KEVIN. THE WORK WILL GO FASTER THAN EVER, AND EVERYONE WILL UNDERSTAND.

How could he resist a lure like that? To have _everyone_ understand... And of course, they would. How could anyone, not hearing that voice, fail to understand? The voice of—

COME TO ME, KEVIN. NOW.

Kevin stepped forward.

He frac/

/tured

Faded

And then, although there was still a body standing in the midst of the light—a man, wearing a tie, not tall or short, not thin or fat, with eyes as black as obsidian—there was nothing but a Smiling God.


End file.
